


Keep Holding On

by 616CHASTAIN



Category: Marvel, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Everyone loves Sharon Carter, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, possible future spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-25 08:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30086292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/616CHASTAIN/pseuds/616CHASTAIN
Summary: The last word gets caught in her throat and she opens her eyes, willing herself not to cry. In moments like this she can’t help but think of her parents, of her aunt, of friends she's lost. Her throat tightens and she inhales through her nose, trying to calm herself. If she cries now, they’ll know it. So she wipes way the tears lingering at the corner of her eyes and keeps walking up the path.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sharon Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sharon Carter, Sharon Carter & Sam Wilson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at deviling into the what Emily said about Sharon being "in a pretty dark place" and her being "tougher, a little raw and rough around the edges." Timeline is probably off because the last movie I saw was civil war and google might not have given me the right answer. 
> 
> I don't know if I plan to follow canon or what I'll take from the show, we're flying by the seat of our pants on this one folks. Enjoy!

The problem with being on the run for so long is that after a while of no doors being broken down, no STRIKE team swarming the street, a person can get lazy. Sleep becomes more important and security measures put in place fall through the cracks. Being used to the life of a fugitive is something Sharon did not allow herself to get used to, not even when she was in some dingy room in South America, sweat pouring down her back as she stitched up the gash on her arm.

Being blipped out of existence only to be blipped _back in_ years later did not help. After scouring for information on what the hell had happened, she found out she wasn’t the only one. Half the population had been blinked out of existence. Half the population was as uncertain and on edge as she was. Perhaps not as on edge as she was as they didn't have government agencies gunning for her, but they could understand a least a small part of her.

Folding her most recently washed clothes, the house is deathly quiet, but it's calming. It's better than being holed up in some cheap motel with paper thin walls, unable to distinguish between people next door and someone trying to ambush her. She learned quickly that cheap motels only resulted in sleepless nights and avoided them as much as possible. It's why now, hearing the faint groan of wooden floors cause Sharon to move quietly towards the dresser, picking up the gun that rests a top it. Clicking the safety off, slowly making her way down the hall, she presses herself against the right wall, highly aware of the curtain-less window in the living room. The blonde curses whoever designed it because a huge window in the middle of the living room screams _Look at me! Go ahead and shoot me!_

An exasperated sigh falls from her lips, but the annoyance is soon replaced by focus as the doorknob jiggles. Mentally counting down from four, Sharon whirls around the corner gun steadily pointed at the intruder.

“It’s just me…” he says, hands hovering at the level of his shoulders. Not mockingly but in a way that shows her he isn’t armed.

Sharon blinks, breath grating out of her. It clicks in her mind that she’s in Sam’s house. No one is trying to break into any safe-house she’s in. She’s safe. She’s with allies. The gun is lowered a second later, safety being clicked back into place.

She moves towards the couch, hands running through blonde hair. She tries not to let him see just how exasperated, angry and confused she is by keeping her back to him. She hears his footfalls, heavier than normal as if he’s letting her know where he’s going, as he moves into the kitchen.

“It’s okay, Sharon. I—” James says, voice soft but not patronizing.

“Don’t start with me.” There’s an edge to her voice as she turns around, brown eyes cutting across the space to him. “I don’t want to hear it, Barnes.”

Gun shoved into the waistband of her jeans, there’s a sense of comfort in feeling the hard metal press against her skin, sock lad feet stalk back down the halls into the room she’s been occupying for the past six months. She yanks on her boots and grabs her dark blue hoodie, yanking it on as she makes her way out of the house.

“I’m makin’ dinner, wanna help!” calls Sarah, voice friendly as ever. Sam calls after her but neither follow.

Sharon moves way from the house with purpose even if she doesn’t know where she’s going. Because there’s hardly a thing that Sharon Carter does without purpose and confidence. The lights of the house get smaller, and the night seems to envelop her the farther away she gets. She reminds herself that it’s a large property and that Sam had set up a strong security perimeter.

Counting back from ten, she leans against the nearest tree and closes her eyes. “You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re with friends. You’re not alone.”

The last word gets caught in her throat and she opens her eyes, willing herself not to cry. In moments like this she can't help but think of her parents, of her aunt, of friends she's lost. Her throat tightens and she inhales through her nose, trying to calm herself. If she cries now, they’ll know it. So she wipes way the tears lingering at the corner of her eyes and keeps walking up the path.

* * *

She lingers by the door, taking in the sounds of chatter, laughter and plates being cleaned. _I could turn into dust right now and the world would keep spinning. They’d keep living,_ she thinks to herself. They’d already done that once, what was one more time?

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looks at Sarah and can tell she’d asked her something. She isn’t what was asked but she agrees anyway. “Uh, sure. Gimme a minute.”

Giving her a small smile, Sharon makes her way back to her room, hoodie and boots being taken off. The gun is placed under her pillow before she moves back into the living room. Her stomach grumbles as her brain registers the scent of spices and shrimp.

They let her make her own plate, including her in the conversation every now and again. She’s thankful that none of them look at her like she’s broken, not even Sarah who is warm and kind; protective of Sam even if she’s the younger one. Both women had the past three weeks, the young Wilson is a breath of fresh air when Sam and Barnes get to be too much.

Sitting on the couch, plate of cajun shrimp pasta in hand, Sharon happily eats and finds herself smiling. The events of earlier receding to a dark corner of her mind. These people, her friends, had that effect on her; they managed to smooth out the rough edges life had caused. Even if only for a moment.

“It’s not fair that she gets to eat on the couch but I can’t,” Barnes protested, long legs sprawled out in front of him, lazily slouched against the couch, beer in hand.

Since meeting him seven years ago, this is the most relaxed she has ever seen him. Ross had mentioned his time in Wakanda but even so, she didn’t think his time there held up to _this._

“C’mon, man. It’s Sharon. Can’t say no to Sharon.” Sam said, from where he sat, across from them. Sarah’s nod in agreement only caused James to protest and Sharon to smile. 

“Look at her,” Sam gestured with his hands to Sharon a la Will Smith, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, “You can’t say no that.”

A laugh bubbled out of the blonde, teeth biting into her lower lip as she grinned, looking at Sam and then Sarah.

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” There’s a pause and she can feel James’ eyes on her, “she kinda has that ray of sunshine thing going on.”

Heat rises and she meets his eyes, a brow arching as Sam ‘ooo’s and Sarah chimes in with it being her smile. “Is this what you were talking about, Sam?”

“Yup. He’s flirtin’”

“He totally is!” laughs Sarah, helping Sam in teasing him as he tries to deny it, claiming he’s being a gentlemen.

Sharon just sits there, taking a moment to study him and how carefree he looks. Her heart flutters in her chest at the boyish smile that graces his features, and she can’t help the smile that readily tugs across her own.

Maybe being blinked out of existence a second time would be worse than the first time. Maybe this time around, when blinked back in, she wouldn’t feel so alone and lost. She’d be able to go back to this moment and these people and maybe they'd give her that same sense of comfort that a gun pressed into the small of her back gave her.


	2. Chapter 2

Insisting on putting the dishes away, Sharon washed the one she used and dried it off before putting it in the cupboard. Sarah said her goodbyes and hugged her tighter than normal, it was most likely her way of saying _I’m here for you_. A small gesture but it was appreciated all the same. Even if the other woman couldn’t understand what she’d done through.

The methodical clink of forks and spoons was soothing, and it was something she could focus on. Sam and Bucky’s conversation became dull background noise that she blocked out even after she was done putting things away, the dark corner of her mind slowly coming back to the forefront. Because it always did, no matter how much she struggled to put it down, no matter the façades she wore, it was always there just under the surface. She doesn’t know how long she’s been looking out the window or how long she’s been standing by the kitchen sink, but heavy footfalls bring her back out of her mind.

It takes everything in her not to instinctively reach back to where her gun should be but isn’t. She plays it off by clenching her fingers before running them through her hair.

“I know what it’s like not to be able to sleep.” His voice is soft and she turns around, watching as James casually leans against the kitchen counter opposite her. “To this day I still don’t know what’s worse, the nightmares or just not sleeping.”

Sharon knows he’s trying to relate to her, trying to tell her she isn’t alone that she doesn’t have to fight all on her own. Oh but there are things he hasn’t had to go through, things even she wish hadn’t happened to her.

“Not sleeping is worse for us non-super soldiers.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, arms crossing themselves over her chest. “Sleep deprivation is a bitch.”

He hums and he’s pealing himself off the counter and moving to the fridge, grabbing the last two beers and handing one to her. She takes it with a nod in thanks.

“About earlier—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she’s quick to cut him off, tone indicating that the conversation should not proceed further. And yet it doesn’t stop him from continuing.

“I meant what I said about your smile,” she can tell just by the way he says it that there’s a smug smile on her face. Looking at him confirms it. She doesn’t know if she wants to punch him or not, but she’s cursing herself for thinking he was talking about the incident when he came in. If there was one thing she should know about James Barnes was that he didn’t push her to talk. He accepted what she gave him and didn’t ask for more. They were similar in that way.

“Oh, right.” Shifting, she meets his eyes again, holding his gaze steadily. “So you admit that you were flirting with me.”

Her tone might not be challenging but they both know she is because when was Sharon Carter not challenge either of them? “What if I was? Is it such a bad thing?”

The question seems innocent enough, but she knows better. _If I answer that, I’m opening Pandora’s box._ So she settles for teasing him instead. “Gotta practice flirting somehow.”

Moving back into the living room, she takes up her previous spot on the couch. Brown eyes drift to the curtain-less window that stares back at her. The faint sound of metal hitting glass makes her flinch but it’s just James’ fingers wrapping around the three discarded beer bottles on the coffee table. There was no gun fire ringing out, she wasn’t in trouble.

“I should try and get some sleep..” standing, she gave him a small smile. “A few hours are better than nothing.”

“Want to show me your best poker face?” he asked, giving her a challenging look even as his lips threatened to tug upwards. “Sam and I already have a game going. He’s losing.”

There’s a pause and she arches a brow at him, “ready to lose that money you’ve won from him?” The boyish grin he gave her caused a small smile of her own, she was starting to see how he was such a ladies’ man during the war. With his charms and a uniform, she was certain he got any woman he wanted.

* * *

Stirring away, she is instantly aware that she isn’t in the bed she’s become familiar with over the past couple of weeks. Panic starts to bubble in her but then she remembers last night, technically, hours ago. Playing three rounds of poker with Bucky had surprisingly made her familiar with his features and how damn good he is at hiding his reactions. That didn’t come as a surprise, she knows bits and pieces of his past, knows he was a kgb trained assassin.

A hand going to shield her eyes from the sunlight, body rolling onto her back. It’s then that she smells the all too familiar scent of bacon and pancakes.

“You should eat.” James voice floats from somewhere in the kitchen. Damn super soldier and their enhanced hearing.

“Why? We going somewhere?” she sits up and yawns, standing up to stretch.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Tucking blonde strands behind her ears, she makes her way into the kitchen and to the coffee pot. The mug she’s been using sits there, waiting for her. Filling it up and adding stirring in the sugar, Sharon wraps her hands around the mug and inhales the aroma before taking a sip.

“Sam woke up to make breakfast?”

Bucky gives her a mildly offended look, she simply gives him a ‘well?’ look, even as she sees the man in making his way back from his morning shield training.

“He isn’t the only one who knows how to cook.” He takes a bite of a bacon strip and grabs the plate piled with pancakes and moves it to the table.

She sets her mug down and helps him move the other plate and decanter of orange juice. Sam walks in, shirt being tugged off and used to wipe the sweat off his face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn the kitchen,” he comments with a teasing grin.

“Really?”

Sharon comes back with her coffee, giving a light shake of her head. She sits down and claims three pancakes for herself along with two strips of bacon as the two men bicker.

“How much money he owe you?” asks Sam, as the eat.

Barnes looks smug as he digs into his own breakfast. “He doesn’t owe me anything. We broke even.” And yes, she’s proud of that.

“How much do you owe him?” a knowing smile appears because James had told her about the game he and Sam had going, so she knew he owed him.

“You know, he’s actually a cheater he just won’t admit it.”

“One fifty.” Chimes James.

They jump from one topic to the next, falling into relative silence every now and again. Once done, she makes her way into her room and grabs clean clothes before going upstairs to shower.

There is still a feeling of unease within her and she knows it won’t be going away anytime soon. The urge to grab her things and move paired with the anxiety and paranoia she refuses to let go of it only causing more harm than good. But she’s already been here three weeks and her instincts tell her (instincts from over five years ago) to keep moving, keep running.

Staying in one place for too long is a death wish when you’re on the run. But it’s safe her, safer than anywhere else. Water cascades down her form, head bowed, hands pressed against the wall in front of her. A sigh escapes her, and she opens her eyes looking down at herself for a moment. In the next breath, she’s reaching for the soap and loofah, scrubbing her skin raw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a tiny tweak to how long Sharon has been with the boys in chapter 1. This might end up being semi-canon compliant after all. Excuse the shitty dialogue, I'm only used to writing James and Sharon with their respective comic partners so bear with me. 
> 
> Hope everyone has been enjoying this so far!

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](chastainromanova.tumblr.com)


End file.
